Hello everyone,

back again with another coda for SPN season 11. So many episodes to mess with in that season ;)

This time it's episode 12, the family dinner at Jody's. I was a tiny bit disappointed that Cas wasn't even mentioned once, so here's the missing scene how I would have liked it.

I hope they aren't too OOC.

Disclaimer: No chance I would ever own them.

It's the middle of the night when the case has been closed, vampires disposed of when Claire finally corners Dean. He noticed she had been giving him strange looks for nearly the whole time since they arrived. So when his usual sleeplessness is getting overwhelming, the hunter decides to get up from the makeshift bed, Jody made on her sofa for them. He can hear his brother snoring on the mattress a foot away. But as usual sleep just won't come to him and he can't exactly drink enough to just pass out. Instead he swings his legs to the floor and buries his head in his hands as usual. Too much is going around in his brain at the moment.

Of course he hears the soft footsteps down the stairs but he also knows that there is no danger in this house so he doesn't see the need to show any reaction. Only when someone clears their throat does he look up. His tired eyes land on the blond girl's form. Claire is leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed. She jerks her head towards the kitchen and he sighs, but the look in her eyes makes it clear that he has to follow. Groaning, he rubs a hand over his face, standing up nonetheless.

In the kitchen she busies herself first with filling a glass with water. Only once she has emptied that does she turn around and fix Dean with a hard stare. Her arms are once again crossed and a deep scowl has settled on her face.

"So what's wrong?" she asks suddenly, startling Dean.

He raises an eyebrow and runs a hand over his face again, "What's wrong? You will have to specify that. Otherwise I have no idea where to begin."

"No offense," she snorts, "But I am not that interested in whatever tryst you and your brother are having right now. I am talking about Castiel."

"Cas?" the hunter frowns, "Nothing's wrong with him as far as I know."

"As far as you know?" she raises an eyebrow, "What is that supposed to mean now?"

"Well, I haven't heard from him in quite some time."

"And that's not something wrong?" she gapes, "Usually he sticks to your side like a lost puppy. He answers to your every call."

The hunter sighs, head falling down, and the usual sting of pain courses through him as it always does when he thinks about Cas being away, "He's been doing that before. It's not so uncommon."

"Really? When?" one of her blond eyebrows raise.

"When he ran away with the angel tablet. When he was doing god only knows what for Naomi. When he was off living his human life. When… " he rants off, painfully recalling all those times.

"Whenever he was in trouble," Claire cuts him off.

Dean stiffens when he realises that she is right. Cas only ever stayed away when he was dealing with problems. Or when the hunter himself sent him away… Throwing Cas out of the bunker is still one of the biggest regrets of his whole life. Not that he would ever say that out loud, because what good would it do? So he just sighs and gives a stiff nod.

"So what? We are all busy right now, Cas included. So maybe he isn't answering our calls anymore. Doesn't have to mean there is something wrong with him?" his voice sounds exhausted now, his eyes avoiding the girl's.

"It's not just that!" Claire glares at him, one hand landing harshly on the counter behind her, then suddenly she scowls down at the floor.

As much as he tries to convince himself of the opposite, Dean can't help the bad feeling creeping up his spine at her outburst. He really wants to believe that Cas is fine, but Claire wouldn't react that violently if she doesn't have a very good reason. He groans.

"What do you mean?"

"Would you maybe mind not sounding as pissed as you do?" Claire frowns, "It's about your… best friend after all."

"Yeah, yeah. It's just a lot right now. And I am not exactly the emotional type," he growls back.

She snorts, "Don't worry. I noticed that much. Honestly, if being a hunter automatically turns me into an emotionally constipated idiot like you, I think I will pass."

"Thanks for the compliment," he snorts but at least it earns him a wry smile back, "So what is that has your feathers so ruffled? Cas behaves weirdly now and then."

"Be that as it may, that's not it," her fingers start to fidget and after she pulls her phone out of her pocket she twirls it in her hands, "I am pretty sure you are aware that Castiel feels bad for what he did to my family so he has been trying to get in touch with me more and more." After she gets a snort in agreement from Dean, she continues, "Anyway. He has been writing me messages since our last meeting. Small SMS, just to ask how I am or when he found something new. It was annoying quite frankly," she pauses, blushing in the knowledge that right now she would give anything for such a message, "Lot's of emoticons too, the idiot. But my point is… They stopped."

"The messages?" Dean lifts his head curiously.

"Yes, every bit of communication. No emoticons, no texts, not even a hello," she unlocks her phone, scrolling the texts up and down, "I mean, not that it's important to me or anything," she scowls annoyed, "But it just seemed so out of character for him that I wanted to know whether something was wrong with him."

"You're right that doesn't really sound like the Cas I know," he sighs, hand rubbing over his face again while his eyes wander to the ground.

"You noticed something too, didn't you?"

Maybe he's too tired at the moment but for some reason Dean hears himself answering honestly, "Maybe… It's just… We were on a case not long ago, about a banshee. I drove back to the bunker to get some golden knives. He was there, going through some of the materials. He was making a mess and left it like that. That's not Cas' style, he is a very neat person. Probably from his angel training. He was also talking about attractions and being all easy-going. It just didn't feel right."

"That's why I asked whether something was wrong with him?" Claire forces onward.

"At first I thought he was just shaken up by seeing Lucifer. But when I think back to seeing him rifling through our papers without his trench coat, I don't know…" he sighs, "Look, like I said I haven't heard from him in a while. But as far as I know everything is fine with him."

"As far as you know?" her eyebrows disappear into her hairline, "Haven't you, I don't know, tried calling him?"

"I did, but he doesn't answer. I guessed his phone died or something," the hunter answers with a scowl.

"Well, I did," the girl suddenly says.

"What?"

"I called him. About my case. He was the first I tried. Before you," she sighs, "It took me three tries to even get him on the phone. And even then…" Again she twirls the phone in her hands, "He just said to call you. That he was busy."

The scowl on Dean's face deepens, "You're right, that doesn't sound like him. He would drop everything to help you."

"So what is going on with him?" she crosses her arms defiantly.

"I don't know, okay?!" he hisses.

"How can you not know? You proclaim that he is your friend, don't you?" shaking her head, she frowns at him.

"So? I don't know where he is all the time. What am supposed to do?" he glares up, "Put a leash on him?"

"Yes!" she yells back, "Not literally though please," a shudder wracks her body, "Ew, that's a mental picture I didn't need. Especially in combination with the face of my father."

But it earns her a tired grin from Dean, "No way I am doing that. He's a free being like every one of us."

"Of course and that's not how I meant it," she shakes her head. Apparently she has the habit of letting her mouth get ahead of her, "What I meant is that you don't just let him run off after something that could have been a traumatic event for him. You all forced me to stay put after every incident as well, so why doesn't that rule count for him? Or you? You do it for Sam, right?"

"What's your point, Claire?" he sighs.

"My point is that sometimes it seems like you care little about what is actually going on with Castiel," her arms are crossed again, "I am the daughter of the man he took as his vessel. I am entitled to be pissed at him and not have any interest in his wellbeing, but you? You say he's your family. But you don't treat him the same as Sam, who is family to you. Do you know where Sam is? Basically all the time. Do you see my point?"

Dean only groans, "So? Like I said, what do you expect me to do about it? I am not putting a leash on him."

"Never expected that," she rolls her eyes, "Just maybe think about checking up on him on your own. Don't just wait until he calls. Jesus," he rakes a hand through her hair, "I told you to keep an eye on him, didn't I?"

"That you did," the guilt is weighing heavily on him, "You said he went through a lot."

"That's for sure," at Dean's confused look she gapes at him, "Seriously? You didn't notice. All it takes is one look into his eyes. No matter how angry I was at him, I could at least see that much. How emotionally underdeveloped are you?"

He only glares. She clicks her tongue, angrily chucking her glass into the sink.

"Think about what I said. Do me that much of a favour. And try not to shut emotions out for once," she narrows her eyes, "Maybe think about what he means to you as well," after a last disapproving look she storms out of the room.

Dean is left sitting there, head in his hands. Eventually he manages to get his tired body to move and he returns to the living room. With a sigh he falls on his makeshift bed. What Cas means to him? What kind of question is that? Cas is his best friend, he's like a brother. Is that really why you dream about him? A treacherous voice in the back of his head asks. He ignores it as he always does. With another groan, he decides that if he will ever work through his feelings (more likely is never though) that now is not the time. Too much going on, definitively not the time to get even further attached.

Instead he takes Claire up on one of her other ideas and fiddles his phone out of his jacket which is thrown over the armrest of the sofa. With slightly shaky fingers does he unlock the screen and scrolls down his contacts until he finds the right name. 'Cas' is standing out starkly against the bright screen. Running a hand through his hair, he presses the call button and puts the device to his ear.

Peep

Peep

Peep

Peep

Nothing but the usual signal until it clicks and he lands on the answering machine:

This is the voicemail of:

"I don't understand, why… Why do you want me to say my name?"

He can't help but give another wry smile at hearing Cas' awkward voicemail. Something in him immediately eases when he hears the deep voice in his ear. He rubs a hand across his forehead.

"Hey, Cas. Uhm… Just wanted to know what you are up to these days. We haven't heard from you in quite some time. It would be nice to check in from time to time. Uh… I also wanted to ask, well… Are you okay? You seem a bit off since our encounter with Lucifer. I mean, I know it was hard for Sammy, so maybe it was for you too. After all, he… Anyway, just take care okay? We need your help in fighting Amara. We can't do that without you, so… Okay, uhm, Sammy's calling, so I have to go. Bye, Cas…"

With a sigh, his chest heavy with the knowledge that Cas is not responding to any of their communication tries, he ends the call and puts the phone away again. What is it about Cas that… But before he can finish that thought a voice breaks through to him.

"Still no luck with Cas?" his brother asks, half propped up on his mattress.

"No, stubborn bastard won't answer," he growls, "According to Claire he stopped texting her and didn't even react when she asked him for help."

He can see Sam frown in the dark, "That's strange," after a moment of silence, he sighs, "Maybe you were right. There is something off about him."

"Yeah, I agree. But if we can't get in contact with him, there is no way we can figure out what is wrong with him."

Sam only nods then fixes his gaze on Dean, "You should sleep. There is nothing we can do right now and you desperately need the rest. Don't think I haven't heard you roaming the halls in the middle of the night back at the bunker. So sleep now, thinking about Cas and the darkness tomorrow," he huffs, throws his older brother a bitchface and lays down.

"Whatever you say, bitch," Dean snorts.

"Sleep, jerk," is the answer he gets.

Then only silence meets his ears and the slowly evening out breaths of his little brother. He gives the broad back a fond half-smile before he himself slides down into his covers. But sleep still doesn't really want to come to him. Again there is too much going around his mind. Claire's words only added to it. What she said only caused the bad feeling he had about their residual guardian angel to become much worse. If something is seriously wrong with Cas… No, he doesn't want to imagine. He has seen the seraph die or at least nearly die far too many times already. Groaning he rolls onto his other side. If he ever wants to get any rest, he desperately needs to banish these kind of thoughts. So instead he focuses on the bunker, on the few mornings that Cas was there and well at the same time (which are worryingly few now that he thinks about it), when he would stumble through the library only to see the angel at one of the tables, buried in some old tome, a cup of lukewarm coffee standing next to the book.

It's to these types of memories that he finally falls asleep. Only to dream of more peaceful mornings in the bunker with his brother and Cas. Always Cas.

That's it. Thanks for reading.

I am planning on writing more season 11 codas after 'I know this pain' and this, so maybe I will see you then.

Please review too.